The Lone Wolf's Guide to Pack Integration
by Miss Mudblood
Summary: AU. Stiles Stilinski was born a werewolf. After losing his father, he ventures into Beacon Hills and stumbles across a new pack led by a mysterious werewolf named Derek Hale. Rating might be raised to M in later chapters. Stiles/Derek.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, all! Actually venturing on a multi-chapter fic. I'm not sure how long it'll be, but I hope to write consistently and have it finished soon. Written as a request from a user on tumblr, so I hope it's what you wanted and that you enjoy!

WARNING: This story begins after the death of Sheriff Stilinski. I'm so sorry about that. The funeral is discussed for the first couple of chapters, so if you're triggered by any of that then skip ahead to the third paragraph and start there or skip this fic altogether.

This fic is un-beta'd, so if you're interested in being my beta reader, shoot me a message here or on tumblr at .com!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters, storylines, etc. I do, however own the Season One DVD and a can-do attitude. So there's that.

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After the funeral, Stiles couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit on the floor of his father's room, staring at the wall across from him. Or what used to be his father's room. Stiles ran a hand along the carpet absentmindedly, letting the tears fall. It had been a well-attended service, distant friends and relatives patting his back sympathetically and handing him casseroles in the parking lot as he left the viewing. The eulogies had been given by his father's coworkers and a far-off cousin. They all sounded sincere, but with the air of exaggeration beneath them. No one had really known him like Stiles. Stiles was all he had left. And now Stiles had no one. He let go of his control and felt himself shift. All the fangs and claws in the world couldn't have saved his father from something as mundane as a heart attack. Stiles had tried every day to protect him, patrolling the forest surrounding their home and making sure the hunters stayed far away. No one bothered them, after all this time. Not since a rogue gunsmen by the name of Gordon Walker put a wolfsbane bullet in his mother and Stiles had run him out of town. He had never felt so out-of-control as that day. It took all of his willpower not to kill the hunter. He learned years later that someone else had done that for him. He tried not to feel guilty about the satisfaction that news had given him. But none of Stiles' efforts had mattered. A heart attack was something he wasn't able to protect his father from.

Three days later, Stiles' careful mask broke. He got dozens of calls from neighbors to check on him. Constant emails from the school guidance counselor asking him to meet her in her office to talk. A visit from the social service to put him in foster care. And that was when it was too much. He hadn't answered the door; there was no need. Stiles could hear their somber conversation from halfway down the street over the roar of the van's engine, and he knew exactly what it meant. And there was no way in hell that he was going with them. What foster parent would understand that their foster child was a werewolf with concentration problems and a guilt complex the size of Texas?

He quickly pulled a handful of clothes out of his dresser and put it into his backpack, along with all of the money in his mattress and a photograph of his parents. Slinging it over his back, Stiles jumped out of the window and landed nimbly on the ground below. He took off into the trees, careful not to shift until the forest was thick enough to shadow him. Where he was heading to, he didn't know. He just needed to get away.

He stopped in motels along the way whenever the need to sleep overtook him, curling up in the scratchy sheets and trying not to let the loneliness swallow him. His sleep was plagued with nightmares of hunters killing his parents, of being discovered as a werewolf, of spending the remainder of his life in isolation. He would often awake with tears streaming down his face and the pillows ripped to shreds.

Weeks later Stiles stumbled through a small town in California called Beacon Hills. It had the crisp smell of the forest and Stiles was drawn to it immediately. A walk through the trees was no crime, and he didn't smell anything threatening within his range. As he reached the heavily wooded area, however, he smelled someone. But not just someone. The scent was too familiar. It had a musk that he could only identify as belonging to his kind. Stiles knew he was smelling a werewolf. Before his instincts could get the better of him, he took off in a rush to follow the fading scent. As he grew nearer, a house came into view. A delapidated mansion, torn apart by time and tragedy. It smelled heavily of ash, but also fresh paint and lumber. Which meant that someone was renovating it. Stiles grew closer, the scent of the strange wolf growing stronger as well. He could tell there was more than one person living there, perhaps a whole pack. Many individual scents intertwined and branched off, and Stiles was taken aback. He could be intruding upon a family, and he didn't want to go where he was not welcome. But Stiles was never one to listen to his own conscience, not stopping in his approach. It smelled too comfortable here to turn back. It smelled like home, which was something Stiles didn't think was possible anymore.

He got as far as the edge of the property when a growl sounded behind him. He whipped around and nearly tripped over an exposed branch. Whoever said that werewolves were naturally graceful was a lying bastard. Stiles quickly regained his balance and finally looked at the source of the growl. He was a few inches taller than Stiles, but at least twice as massive. Muscles rippled in his exposed arms and a vein in his neck looked dangerously close to popping. Stiles had to admit, he was pretty damn hot. Even if he did look close to ripping his throat out. "What are you doing in my territory?" he roared, teeth pulled back in a vicious snarl. He had already shifted, nails elongated into threatening claws.

Stiles tried for an easy smile despite hearing the obvious threat in the other werewolf's voice. "Calm down, dude. Just passing through. Didn't mean to encroach on your domain or whatever," he replied with a wave of his hand. He then held it out and stood up straight. "I'm Stiles," he added. He was met with a sneer and the other werewolf didn't move to return his gesture. "Geez, don't be such a sour wolf. I'm just trying to be friendly here."

The other wolf growled again, rumbling deep in his chest. "If you were just_ passing through-_" he spit out the words like they were acid on his tongue, "-then why were you deliberately moving toward my house?" He stepped closer and his eyes were a deep red as they stared into Stiles'.

"I was curious, there's no need to tear me apart." He quirked an eyebrow, but the other wolf didn't back down. He sighed audibly and added, "You're a werewolf. You can hear that I'm not lying."

Stiles could hear the wolf's heartbeat slow a little, and he knew he was a bit more at ease. "Derek Hale," he grumbled, though he didn't back up. Stiles steeled himself and patted his- _Derek's_- shoulder with a smile. Derek froze and then took a tentative step backwards. Stiles could hear the heartbeat rise again and he wondered what was wrong with a friendly pat. Clearly _someone_ had some issues that needed working out.

"So am I required to leave now or are you gonna be a good host and introduce me to your pack?" Stiles asked Derek bravely. He was tired of being alone, and he could tell that there was something special about this house, these people.

Derek didn't answer for a long moment, eyes raking over Stiles' slight frame. He sighed again and said, "You touch any of them and I will not hesitate to take you down."

"Trust me. I'm a lover, not a fighter," he replied with a smirk. He then gestured for Derek to lead the way and he took off across the yard. Stiles grinned and stayed close behind him. They quickly reached the front door and Derek strode in first. Stiles followed quickly and could smell that there were only two more wolves in the house. Both were sitting in the partially-renovated living room, whispering quietly to one another. It was quiet enough that Stiles couldn't hear even with his enhanced senses, and that was enough to make him nervous.

Derek cleared his throat pointedly and said, "Isaac, Erica. This is Stiles." Stiles smiled and waved in greeting as two pairs of eyes shot up to his sharply. Well, _that_ didn't look very friendly.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: An update, hooray! Hopefully the next chapter will be up within the next couple of days. And many thanks to my wonderful beta, Valerie! You're awesome, m'dear. :D

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Stiles could practically feel the temperature in the room drop with their icy glares. He nervously rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. What the hell had he done now? He literally hadn't even said a word to them and already he feared for his safety. The male - who Stiles assumed was Isaac - was sitting completely still and staring at Stiles like he'd never seen another werewolf before. The girl, Erica, however, looked like she would have loved nothing more than to feast on his innards. And that was not an attractive look on someone who ordinarily would've been a solid ten out of ten in Stiles' book.

"What the hell is a Stiles?" Erica sneered mockingly, eyes narrowing even further.

"Cool it, Cujo. Stiles is my _name,_" he replied easily. Her gaze was steady but her heartbeat told of her discomfort. He sensed the same nervousness from her that he did from her companion, Isaac. Apparently that discomfort made her angry. At Stiles. Who was seriously in the dark here.

"And what are you doing here?" she spat.

"Oh my god, you act like I've come to steal your soul. I was wandering around the forest and stumbled across big bad wolf over here." He threw his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to Derek. "I'm assuming you don't get guests very often." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. Stiles didn't know any werewolves other than himself and his mother, though he had always assumed the ones he would meet would be friendly to others of their kind – as he was. Had he been wrong or was this pack the exception?

Derek moved forward to stand just in front of Stiles, almost seeming to shield him from the other wolves. "He's not a threat to us. Use your senses, Erica." Stiles could see her visibly relax at the words, and he realized that Derek must be their Alpha. "Go call and check in on Scott," he continued and she nodded immediately, standing up and scrambling out of the room. Isaac looked unhappy at her departure and quickly followed her. Derek turned back toward him and gave a one-shoulder shrug. "They're new wolves. Still in training." Stiles nodded slowly, though he didn't know what that meant. Were new wolves more territorial or something? Stiles had been born into this, so he wasn't sure what differences lay between being turned and being born a werewolf. He couldn't imagine that gaining so much power so suddenly without a way to control it had been easy for them. Derek's answer hadn't explained his own reaction, however. Stiles could tell that Derek was surely not a new wolf. So why had he reacted so strongly only to change his opinion and attitude so quickly? Stiles filed that question away for later.

"Okay," he responded, dragging the word out for several seconds. "So how many of you are there?" Stiles could smell that at least a couple more beings frequented the house, though he couldn't tell if they were human or wolf.

"There are eight of us in all. Two human," Derek replied. Stiles smiled. That meant there were six werewolves here. Surely Derek wouldn't mind if Stiles stuck around to meet them? "Though only Isaac and I live here permanently. The others drop by whenever they can," Derek continued.

Stiles hummed in understanding and looked around. "When can we be expecting them?"

Derek's eyes widened a bit, as if questioning the "we" part of Stiles' statement. Stiles flushed as he realized that he was sort of taking advantage of Derek's hospitality. Stiles shouldn't have assumed he was welcome in Derek's den any longer. But Stiles found that he did want to stay and meet the rest of the pack – if Derek would allow it, anyway. After a pause Derek said authoritatively, "They should be here within the next couple of hours. Pack meeting."

"Oh," Stiles said upon hearing Derek's tone. Stiles wasn't pack, so of course he wouldn't want him here for a pack meeting. "Then I'll just be going. Sorry for uh, intruding," he said, turning and reaching for the rusted doorknob.

He got the door about halfway open before Derek's voice stopped him. "Meeting another wolf might be good for them." Stiles bit back a gleeful grin and turned to him. Derek had a weird, almost panicked look on his face, like he didn't want Stiles to leave. Stiles did smile at that. That had to be a good sign, right?

"So I can stay?" he asked almost a little too eagerly. He cleared his throat and felt a flush rise over his cheeks as he amended, "I mean- I think I can help on that front, if that's okay with you."

Derek nodded gruffly and turned quickly away, striding into the other room, toward where Isaac and Erica had disappeared to. Stiles figured he was supposed to follow, so he quickened his pace to catch up. The two betas were whispering again, and Stiles stopped a good distance away from them. Both straightened immediately but looked less afraid and more wary. Stiles gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and could tell that Isaac was trying to return it. Sure, it looked more like a grimace, but hey, A for effort.

Derek gave them a pointed look and Isaac rushed forward with his hand outstretched. "I'm Isaac." Stiles shook it firmly. "Sorry about before."

"No problem, man," Stiles replied easily and smiled wider. Erica, on the other hand, just stared silently at Stiles. Well, at least she didn't look angry anymore. He gave her a little salute and was rewarded with a small smirk. Yes, progress. This he could work with.

Derek was looking back and forth between Stiles and his betas with an unreadable expression. Stiles could hear his heartbeat, steady and sure. He counted that as a victory. If Derek was at ease with him, then maybe he would be all right. Heh. He wouldn't get eviscerated, anyway. Hopefully. Stiles was convinced that he could totally defend himself either way, but he had been serious before in the fact that he was a lover, not a fighter. He had a silver tongue and the wits with which to handle himself verbally, but he tried to avoid physical conflict whenever possible.

Derek seemed to come back to himself and gestured awkwardly at a nearby chair. "You can sit down if you want," he said. Stiles nodded politely and walked over it, perching tentatively on the cold metal seat. Derek almost looked pleased with himself, and Stiles tried not to snort. The four of them sat in silence for a few minutes and he knew in the back of his mind that it really should have been awkward as hell. Stiles was naturally an awkward person and here he was sitting in a stranger's kitchen with three other werewolves who he'd only just met. And yet, Stiles felt strangely calm. Calmer than he had been since he'd lost his father, at least. The pain was still there - a constant ache in his chest, but it wasn't as piercing now. Stiles tried not to think about what that meant.

The silence - along with his train of thought - was broken when someone rapped on the door. Stiles blinked rapidly, taking note of the fact that he'd been inadvertently staring at Derek. He was busy silently cursing himself for being a weirdo until he realized that the Alpha had been staring right back with a curious expression on his face. He shook it away and stood to answer the knock, disappearing across the threshold to the living room. Stiles looked down at the floor and prayed that the flush on his cheeks wasn't noticeable.

"And who's this?" came a new voice. Stiles looked up to see a short, red-haired girl standing in the doorway. She was probably the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, but he could tell she waswaaaay out of his league. Hell, this girl was probably out of everyone's league. Then again, so was Derek. Stiles briefly wondered if they were a couple. He was glancing between the two of them when she cleared her throat. Oh, he should probably answer.

"Um, I'm Stiles. Nice to meet you...?"

"Lydia Martin," she replied with a smirk. She glanced back at Derek and winked. Stiles' forehead wrinkled. Um, what? "Welcome to Beacon Hills, Stiles. Sorry that you had to meet these hopeless souls first. Believe me, the rest of us are way more interesting to talk to." Lydia gave them a fond look and strode into the kitchen, taking a seat opposite Stiles at the table. Even though Derek was Alpha and Lydia was nothing more than human, Stiles could tell she was the one to watch out for. "And forgive the mess. We're in the process of turning this heap into something habitable."

Derek shot her a glare and Stiles smiled. "It's no problem, really. I'm just glad to finally find some more werewolves. It's been just me for a while."

"Oh, an Omega then? Hmm," she said and gave Derek a knowing look. She was conniving, Stiles just knew it. "Normally Derek doesn't allow anyone here unless they're pack. Aren't you special?"

Stiles flushed but didn't answer. What would he even say to that? Apparently Derek didn't know how to respond either, since he just averted his eyes and stared pointedly out the window over both of their heads with his jaw clenched tight. Lydia smiled at them and tapped her long fingernails on the table.

Stiles heard a ring made ten times louder by his wolf senses and watched as Lydia pulled her phone from her bag, the screen lit up with a message. "Allison said she's on her way with Scott," she said to Derek. He nodded curtly, still not meeting anyone's eyes.

"What about Jackson and Boyd?" The question was more of a demand, Stiles noted.

"Boyd's still at the library, but he said he'd be back in time," Isaac piped up. "No idea about Jackson."

Another nod. Derek reached into his own pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He typed a text message and got a response before he could even put it back into his pocket. Stileswondered how the answer could have come so fast but was instantly distracted from that thought when the door opened.

A new – and decidedly male - figure stalked into the kitchen doorway, looking at the back of Derek's head with more annoyance than Stiles thought possible. "Derek, I said I'd be here at two. Stop trying to keep tabs on us. We're not your pets." The new guy hadn't even noticed Stiles, too caught up in raging at Derek.

"There are hunters in the area; we have to be careful. You, of all people, should know that, Jackson," Derek replied calmly. Stiles' eyes widened. Hunters? Here? No, not good. He'd tried for years to avoid them after what happened with his mom. He_couldn't_run into any more. If he did, Stiles knew he'd do something he would regret.

Stiles looked up to find Derek, Isaac, Erica, and the new guy (Jackson, his brain helpfully supplied) all staring at him. Jackson looked confused at his very existence – Stiles figured that confusion was also sort of a default look for him. The others looked concerned. "Stiles, why's your heartbeat through the roof?" Erica asked.

"Oh, that," Stiles stammered weakly as his eyes met the ground, "I, uh- I lost my mom to hunters. Years ago." He paused. "I didn't know there were any here." When Stiles looked up, he found all of them giving him a look of sympathy – except Derek who just looked sort of… Pissed. The Alpha turned and stalked out of the room without a word, leaving Stiles to wonder for the second time that evening what he'd done wrong.

This meeting new people business was much more difficult than he'd thought.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: First off, THANK YOU for all of the wonderful feedback! I'm incredibly overwhelmed at the response I've gotten in the form of favorites, follows, and reviews. You all are wonderful and I really cannot tell you enough. Second, many thanks and all my love to my beta Valerie! I hope you all enjoy reading the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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The others in the kitchen didn't look surprised at Derek's abrupt departure; instead they showed varying degrees of guilt and sadness. Stiles shifted his gaze to each of them in turn and when he found that none of them could look him in the eye, he spoke up quietly. "Okay, what did I do?"

Isaac looked up from the ground and started, "Derek lost-"

"Isaac," Lydia interrupted, a warning threaded into her voice. "He deserves to hear it from Derek." She looked at Stiles with the corner of her lips turned up encouragingly. "Go ahead, Stiles. He'll explain." Lydia made a shooing gesture, so Stiles stood timidly and headed off toward the sound of Derek's heartbeat. It was quick and unsteady.

Stiles found the alpha at the staircase. Derek was sitting with his hands laced together in his lap, head down and eyes clenched shut. Stiles moved cautiously to sit on the stair next to him and when Derek didn't try to stop him, Stiles counted that as a small victory.

"So," Stiles began lamely. Derek didn't look up. "What was that all about?" He gently nudged Derek's knee with his own and waited. Stiles counted exactly forty-three seconds before he heard Derek give an audible sigh. Good thing too, because Stiles was going to start rambling at forty-five.

"Six years ago, a hunter named Kate Argent took my family from me," Derek said in an even tone. "This house was full of people, human and werewolf – my parents, siblings, cousins… All of them. Then that- that bitch burned them alive." He stopped and looked up at Stiles, eyes hard. "I just hate being reminded that mine isn't the only life hunters have ruined."

Stiles gaped. Yes, he'd lost his mother. It had been devastating and Stiles was never the same afterwards. His father had succumbed to alcohol and depression. It took all of Stiles'considerable effort to get his dad through it, but at least he still _had _his dad. Derek lost everyone. He reached out without thinking and touched Derek's arm in consolation. The alpha started at the contact but didn't pull his arm out of Stiles' grasp.

"I get that my apology doesn't mean anything, and it sure as hell can't take back what happened, but I am sorry," Stiles replied calmly. "I know how it felt to lose my mom. It's something no one should go through, and you've gone through even worse."

Stiles didn't expect a response. He was about to move to return to the kitchen when Derek spoke up again. "I'm sure you understand this better than most, but the hunters are bad news. There's an entire family living here in Beacon Hills permanently, but they have their code. While we're still cautious of them, they're not the ones to worry about. There are others, stragglers. They pass through every once in a while, and they have no reservations about killing any wolf they come across."

Stiles nodded, understanding the seriousness of Derek's warning. It sounded as if this pack had dealt with quite a few hunters, and that implication scared Stiles. What if he had been spotted earlier today in the woods? Would he have been able to protect himself? How many hunters were there? "Is your pack safe here?"

"Safer than anywhere else. The pack has ties here; they all have families. If I were to uproot them, everyone left behind would be exposed. Right now the hunters don't know the identities of any of the pack – Except for Isaac and I. Anonymity is our best defense."

"Right, that makes sense. What about that family you mentioned? How do they not know by now?" he queried. If they lived here, they would notice which of their neighbors were werewolves, right? The hunters Stiles had seen were extremely well-trained in spotting lycanthropy.

The corners of Derek's lips curved upwards for a moment. "They do. But like I said, the Argents have their code. Their youngest is part of the pack, so they know better than to harm any of us without reason."

Stiles' eyebrows knitted in confusion. A hunter was part of the pack? Well _that _was something he'd never thought possible. Which of them was it? His best guess so far was the human Lydia. Although there was still one more human that Stiles hadn't met yet, according to what Derek said earlier. Lydia didn't give off that sort of vibe. She was sassy, sure, but not homicidal. Not dangerous.

Stiles didn't know how to take this news. He didn't understand how a werewolf could allow a hunter to be a part of a group as intimate and familial as a pack. What if he or she turned on them? That person would know everything he or she needed to take a pack of werewolves down. It was such a major issue of trust - one Stiles never would have been able to makehimself. After losing his mother to a hunter, he couldn't bring himself to let one of them get so close.

He figured Derek would've had a similar problem with this, but he was reluctant to voice his concerns. The alpha must have had a good reason. For whatever reason, Stiles trusted Derek's judgment.

"Who?" Stiles asked shakily. He had to know. "Who is it?"

"Her name is Allison. She's the mate of one of the Betas, Scott," Derek answered and Stiles felt slightly relieved. Being mates with a werewolf would make her far less likely to betray Derek's pack. "I know it's hard to grasp, but she's proven herself."

Before Stiles could answer, the door opened again and a muscular teenager walked through the door. The guy looked strong, capable, and calm. He had a thickly-bound book in one hand and a leather jacket slung over his arm. Stiles knew immediately that he would get along with him well.

"Right on time, Boyd," Derek greeted with a nod. He got to his feet and Stiles followed suit, standing a few feet away. "This is Stiles. He's going to participate in the meeting this evening."

"It's good to meet you. You going to be around long?" Boyd asked.

Stiles looked at Derek for a moment imploringly before clearing his throat. "Uh… not sure yet." He'd stay as long as he was welcome, but that didn't mean he knew when that welcome would expire.

Boyd gave a small smile and tilted his head politely before making his way toward the kitchen where the others could be heard talking. Stiles watched Derek pull his phone out. He then frowned and muttered to himself, "Damn it, Scott."

"Something wrong?" Stiles asked cautiously.

Derek sighed. "Scott is late. He and Allison should've been here before Boyd." Derek started pacing as he quickly typed a message into his phone. He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair before pursing his lips. "Lydia?" he called out.

"Hmm?" she hummed from the kitchen, ignoring the urgency in her alpha's voice.

"Try to get in touch with Allison," he told her authoritatively. It was clear that Derek was worried, and that made Stiles nervous. Stiles watched anxiously as Derek kept walking through the room. The minutes ticked by, and Derek's heartbeat grew steadily quicker. Lydia came in and informed them that there was no answer.

Finally, Derek's head snapped up to look toward the door. Then Stiles heard it too. A car was approaching the house and judging from the slight slowing of Derek's heartbeat, it had to be the two missing pack members. Derek stormed out onto the porch before Stiles could even blink. Stiles of course - being the nosey teenager he was - watched stealthily from the window. Or, he thought it could pass for stealthy if no one was paying any attention. Luckily they weren't, because Derek was marching out towards the two figures, face furious. One was a tall, slim girl with dark hair and fair skin. She had a bow held tightly in one hand but held her other hand up in a placating gesture. The other figure was a lean guy no older than Stiles with messy hair, an uneven jaw, and a deer-in-the-headlights stare that made Stiles want to go out and hug it right off of his face. Stiles tried to hear part of the conversation, but it was useless. They were talking quietly enough that even Stiles' werewolf senses couldn't overhear. After a few more minutes of discussion that seemed to be more of an argument, the three of them started for the front door. The girl looked anxious, but her mate looked relieved. Stiles scrambled backward and tried to look innocent. He fumbled with his fingernails and when they stepped over the threshold, Stiles tried to convey an expression that didn't make it blatantly obvious that he'd been eavesdropping. It was totally working, he could tell.

Derek gave him a glance and slid past him to go to the kitchen. The girl he assumed was Allison nodded curtly at him and followed the alpha. The guy, who must be Scott, gave him a goofy smile and held out his arms. "Hey, I'm Scott. It's Stiles, right?"

Stiles easily returned the smile and let himself be hugged by the other werewolf. Yep, Stiles liked Scott already. "Yeah," Stiles chuckled. "It's nice to meet you, Scott."

Scott let his arms drop and stepped away. It should've been awkward, but it wasn't. Scott pointed toward the kitchen and Stiles nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way with a wide sweep of his hand. Scott obliged and Stiles fell into step behind him.

Their carefree smiles were quickly wiped from their faces as they walked in and heard, "What in the _hell _does that mean?"

Everyone else in the room looked tense, and Scott looked confused at the drastic change in the room's mood. Clearly he was as out of the loop as Stiles was. Stiles just stood silently, expecting to hear any number of things. What he didn't expect was to hear that a new duo of hunters wasafter the pack right this moment, and Allison had no idea how to stop them. Stiles' day just kept getting better and better.


End file.
